"Shall we go and look at it? You have not seen the whole of it."
As she rose I saw her book, which she had laid face downward on the
grass beside her. It was that same much-enduring copy of "The
Maneuvers of Arthur." I was thrilled. This patient perseverance must
surely mean something.
She saw me looking at it.
"Did you draw Pamela from anybody?" she asked suddenly.